


An Unexpected Storm

by tsukiiyamas



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Absolute fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukiiyamas/pseuds/tsukiiyamas
Summary: Inquisitor Piron gets caught up in a storm in the Exalted Plains. All he wants is a cup of warm tea, a blanket, and some cuddles with his love.
Relationships: Male Lavellan/Male Lavellan, Male Lavellan/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	An Unexpected Storm

Piron was tired, annoyed, and soaked to the bone. While he was almost always tired and annoyed (perks of being the inquisitor), being soaked to the bone was an unexpected development. He and the party had been traipsing through the Exalted Plains. The sun had been shining. The birds were chirping, the halla prancing. Then the fucking Dread Wolf must have decided that dumping a bucket of rain out of the sky was a fun joke to play.

“Fireball, you look like a wet cat,” Varric commented, obviously trying to contain his laugh.

“Do you not see Dorian? If anyone is a wet cat, it’s him.” Piron snapped back, gesticulating roughly in the vague direction of a very-soaked Dorian.

Piron was right, of course. Dorian was sitting on a rock, face in hands, in an absolute state of distress. Piron couldn’t blame him. He felt the same disgust at the state of his battle robes. This was different from the wet of the Storm Coast. At least he could prepare himself for the disgusting, inescapable damp that defined that area. Here, in the plains, it was just an unwelcome intrusion upon his day.

There was still quite a lot to get done before returning to camp. Artifacts to find, rifts to close, demons to fight; the usual routine. But Piron couldn’t muster the motivation to continue on with the day. He just wanted warm clothes and Warren. His current location did not have either of those things, so in a brash decision, he ended the day’s excursion early.

“Come on. We are going back to the camp.”

Dorian stood, drying himself off with a flick of heat magic from his hand, looking in the direction of Varric with an expression that clearly asked “what the hell?” Varric’s response was a shrug of the shoulders and lift of the eyebrows. It was unlike Piron to leave his work unfinished. 

Cole clarified it for them quickly.

“Warm arms. A cup of tea made by him. His hands braiding my hair. Soft kisses. I need him right now. I can’t go on anymore. I’m too tired without him.” 

Although he was a few paces ahead of the three, a bright blush could be clearly seen trailing up Piron’s neck upon hearing Cole’s words. Dorian and Varric unanimously decided to let him be for once. There would be plenty more chances to poke fun at his loverboy tendencies. 

\---  
Warren was sitting next to the (now water-filled) firepit, sharpening his sword when Piron entered the camp. His first instinct was to immediately wrap Piron in a blanket, make him a cup of elfroot tea, and snuggle him. His second, and admittedly stronger instinct, was to let out a cackle at Piron’s appearance. He loved him dearly and knew that he must feel awful, but the sight that graced his eyes was nothing short of comical.

Piron’s usually fluffy mane was somehow both matted against his skin and a cloud of frizz. His carefully applied eyeliner now streaked his cheeks. He was stripped down to his undergarments, with his soaked battle robes slung over his shoulders, dripping water in puddles behind him. The scowl that graced his face was nothing short of fearsome, but upon seeing Warren, it lessened significantly. He was tired. He was a mess. But he was undeniably the man he loved.

With an annoyed huff, Piron sloughed the wet garments off his shoulders and made a beeline towards his tent. Warren did not need to be told to follow. He knew that his presence was very needed at the moment. 

“Rough day?” Warren signed as he edged his way past the tent’s flap. 

“If getting a week’s worth of rain dumped on you counts as a ‘rough day,’ then yes.” Piron signed back with an exasperated sigh. 

Warren moved closer, wrapping his arms around Piron and burying his face in the other man’s neck. His warm breaths pleasantly tickled his skin, and Warren could feel the huff of Piron’s laughter under his hands. Water dripped down his face from Piron’s mop of wet hair.

He pulled away. “There, now I’m soaked too!” The grin that settled on his face caused a surge of warmth to fill Piron’s chest. He loved this idiot.

Grabbing every blanket from their bedrolls and tucking them under his arms, Warren signed “tea?” The enthusiastic nod of Piron’s head was answer enough. Laying the blankets across Piron’s shoulders, he reached for two cups and passed a water skin to Piron. With a flash of heat magic, Piron warmed the water within and poured it into the cups before him. Immediately, the comforting scent of elfroot tea filled the tent, and Piron could feel his body truly relax for the first time that day. He was warm, safe, and snuggled against the man he loved with his whole heart. Perhaps the surprise rain wasn’t as bad as he initially thought if it brought him this.

Suddenly he felt Warren shift to face him. He wore an expression that clearly showed an incoming realization. “Piron.”

“Yes?”

“You could have used your magic to dry yourself off.”

A deep flush of embarrassment spread across Piron’s face as he squeaked a small “oh.” The thought had not occurred to him while he was in the plains. Dripping with rain and weighed down with wet battle robes, his thoughts had immediately gone to Warren. To Warren’s comforting smile. To Warren’s tight hugs. To the warmth of Warren’s presence. 

He was the First of Clan Lavellan, the Inquisitor, a man both feared and respected across Thedas, but he was reduced to a lovestruck fool when thinking about Warren. It didn’t bother him though. Warren was the one genuine thing left in his hectic life, and he cherished this.

Even if it meant that he sometimes forgot that he was a mage.


End file.
